


The soul that you used to be

by AngstySuperSoldierGodmother



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Break Up, Getting Back Together, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, MANPAIN AHOY, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov cares so much y'all, Post-Break Up, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson has Very Strong Opinions And Is Not Backing Down™, Sam Wilson is a Gift, but it's a long and winding road until THAT happens, so much!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstySuperSoldierGodmother/pseuds/AngstySuperSoldierGodmother
Summary: I'm searching...for something...that I can't reach.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Kudos: 10





	The soul that you used to be

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't obvious enough, this fic was partly inspired by the song "Ghost" by Halsey. I hope you like it. I would really appreciate your thoughts n_n

_My ghost, where'd you go?  
I can't find you in this body sleeping next to me.  
My ghost, where'd you go?  
What happened to the soul that you used to be?"_  
\--Halsey, "Ghost"

* * *

Just like that it was over.

He felt empty. Dead.

4 years, 3 months and 16 days.

Just like that and the person he loved most in the entire world had walked out of his life as easily as he had walked out of his front door.

His head hurt. His throat ached. His fingers were still trembling from where they'd been clutching at the fabric of his boyfriend's-- no, _ex_ -boyfriend, now-- shirt just seconds ago.

He took in a shaky breath as the reality of what just transpired hit him like a freight train.

It's over.

_It's over._

_He's never coming back._

He felt his head begin to spin.

He barely made it, stumbling to the couch in what used to be their small apartment before he felt himself sit down, hard.

He sputtered helplessly for a few seconds, feeling the tears starting to build in his eyes as despair took hold and he heard himself, finally, produce a heartwrenching sob.

It was over. There was no going back. And Steve was hopelessly, irrevocably alone.

* * *

_3 weeks later_

"Steve." came Sam's voice from somewhere above him. The problem with crashing with other people is that you can't lock your bedroom door. He sighed and ignored the source of sound as best he could from beneath the covers.

"Steve, come on man" came the voice again, closer. Steve felt a hand give him a slight shake and Steve found himself giving an annoyed groan. A weight settled somewhere at the side of the mattress.

"It's been weeks, Steve. You're starting to scare me. Now, I've talked this over with Natasha. I love you man, and I want to respect how you're feeling, but if you don't get out of this bed, you and I are gonna go get you some professional help."

"I don't _need_ professional help" Steve said from between gritted teeth. Couldn't they all just leave him alone?

There was a pause. He knew Sam so well, he could practically hear the cogs churning in his brain the way they did when he was trying to put something as delicately as he could.

Which meant that whatever was coming next, couldn't be good.

"Steve," Sam tried again, his voice pleading, and Steve hated _so much_ to be the reason Sam sounded like that. "This? This isn't healthy. It isn't normal. You can't just... _stop living._ " And at that Steve swallowed, because even in his fogged up, numbed out brain, he could hear Sam's words cutting a little too close to the wound.

He felt another insistent little shake on his shoulder.

" _Come on_ , Steve" Sam whispered, cajoling now "Get out of bed. Come have some breakfast with me in the kitchen."

There was a pause in which neither of them moved. 

Then, miraculously, Steve stirred from under the covers. First ever so slightly, then until he'd managed to uncover himself completely, revealing a sickly complexion, greasy hair in disarray, hollow eyes. He swung his feet off the bed one at a time and with great effort, Sam waiting ever so patiently.

He avoided his friend's gaze. Sam only put a hand on his shoulder and said "Let's go."

Together, they walked out of the room.

* * *

_2 months later_

"Nat, you have the brown bag?" Steve said, his head stuck inside the back of the cab they had taken to the airport.

"Here." Nat piped up, swinging the brown leather bag towards Steve as she rounded the vehicle and he finished paying the driver. He closed the door and took the bag by the handle.

"Thanks." He mentally checked all his belongings for the hundredth time. Satisfied, he rolled out the biggest suitcase and advanced towards the entrance, Natasha right next to him.

"You really didn't have to come all the way over here, you know" he said, also for the hundredth time, his eyes darting around the facility as they both rushed and squeezed between the bustling crowd "I could've managed."

"Of course you _could've._ " she said, like it was obvious. In spite of all the chaotic energy zooming around her, she somehow managed to look perfectly composed, not a hair out of place. Steve wished he possessed a quarter of her talent to stay calm and collected no matter what the situation thrown at her.

"Still, what kind of friend would I be if I let you leave the state without anyone seeing you off at the airport? Sam is compromised, after all."

"Yeah, well, it was about time that he tended to his own business" he murmured as he finally located a panel where he could register his bags. 

Eventually, they were able to reach the gate for the 4:30  
flight to New York, and they settled in to wait for the intercom to start announcing the boarding.

"Also, I wanted to come." Natasha added.

They both looked at each other briefly and a funny little moment passed between them. 

Natasha was a dear friend of Steve's. Never had Steve loved a woman so much, to the exception of his mother, when she was still around. Natasha and Steve had a very particular chemistry that most people didn't really get. They were opposites in many ways: she was sharp where he was soft, astute where he could be oblivious, mysterious where Steve preferred to trudge through life like an open book. Funnily enough, these differences, instead of serving to distance one from the other, served to strengthen their affection for one another.

She was also one of Bucky's closest friends, just as much as she was Steve's. And her sporadic presence in Steve's life in the weeks following the end of the relationship had not gone unnoticed. He didn't blame her, of course. At some level, it was even to be expected. When Steve moved into Sam's place, he spent almost every day needing of the other man's unwavering support, and Sam had never even gone to visit Bucky, as far as he knew. It only made sense that if Steve got Sam full-time, another one of their friends would do the same for Bucky. Steve had no right to hog all their friends in common (which were, in fact, all their friends).

Still, it had felt a bit weird not having Natasha's solid presence to ground him at such a time of crisis. Steve suspected that it might've been a bit weird for her too, and maybe that's why she had suddenly called that very morning to announce she would be picking him up in a cab to accompany him to the airport, no arguments, no discussions.

The moment passed, and Natasha's lip quirked slightly upward from one side in that familiar way that it did as she looked up at him.

"You're gonna do great in New York" she remarked, a glint in her eye "You couldn't have picked a better place to go be an artist. I'm glad you took the job."

"Yeah, well, what else was I gonna do?" He returned with a small smile, glad for the slight change of atmosphere "It was either go run a gallery in NYC, or... you know, stay here. In DC."

Neither of them mentioned the unsaid _"and continue to wallow in my own misery"_ that the sentence implied, but it seemed to be obvious enough that Natasha sucked in a deep breath.

There was a beat of silence, as Natasha looked at her shoes. Christ, Steve was not used to having uncomfortable moments with Natasha. But ever since he saw her pulling up to his driveway, it was like Bucky had become this ever-looming presence that both were desperately trying to avoid mentioning, especially since all Steve really wanted to do was ask about him.

 _Especially_ since he had already tried asking her about him one of the few times she went to see him, and she had answered with a Curt "Steve... I can't". He hadn't tried asking again.

Steve cleared his throat and motioned towards the gate "I should probably get going..."

"Wait." said Natasha, and before Steve knew it her arms had wrapped around his neck.

Steve hesitated for a second, before putting his arms around his friend as well.

"Promise you'll call?" she asked, with a strangely vulnerable voice that Steve wasn't used to hearing.

"Of course, Nat." Steve huffed, squeezing her tighter "You know, just because I'm going to New York for a little while doesn't mean you're getting rid of me. We'll probably end up texting more often now than when we lived in the same city."

"Yeah, well, you better." she threatened, but Steve could hear the smile in her voice.

They stayed like that a little while longer until they heard the familiar call of _"Last call to board flight 1066 to New York"_ from the intercom.

They separated, Natasha looking at him with so much appreciation and love it was almost overwhelming.

"You go be happy, Steven Grant Rogers."

Steve felt himself start to choke up, but managed to compose himself enough to say "Thanks, Nat, I will. Tell Sam to call me and let me know how that interview went."

Natasha scoffed "Please, we both know if there's someone qualified for that job at the VA, it's Sam."

"I know." he couldn't help but grin, and for the first time since the break up, he actually felt a little bit happy.

Maybe things were going to be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> I already have written out most of this story, so I estimate this is going to be around 2 or 3 chapters. If that changes, I'll add a note :)


End file.
